Page 91 of Captive Lies

Grant ushered Blaire toward the gallery entrance, “Donovan, where’s thecar?”

“Zed parked just up ablock.”

“Good. Find out which hospital they’ve taken Bobby and Drew. Send two of our guys to watch over them. We need to find out what happened when they’re ready totalk.”

“We’re going back to the penthouse?” Blaireasked.

“Yes. Dad’s in New York with Mom. I need to talk to you first before I call them over.” Grant pulled out his phone and swiped anumber.

His dad came on the line on the first ring. “Grant, anynews?”

“Blaire’s fine. I want you guys to come over to the penthouse atten.”

“Two hours from now? Where are yougoing?”

“I need to talk to Blaire first, and Tyler should have more information by then, but he needs to stay behind to talk to thedetectives.”

“Does this have something to do with Blaire again?” There was no accusation in his father’s tone, just a need to find out thetruth.

“I don’t know yet,Dad.”

“All right,” his father replied. “We’ll be there at ten.” Grant thumbed the calloff.

“Amelia and the Senator are in NewYork?”

“Yes,” Grant answered as they exited to curious onlookers. Jake nodded to the other two men who were part of his security detail. Those men remained discreet so in case there were threats coming at Grant and Blaire, they could intervene with an element ofsurprise.

There were so many questions he needed to ask and, with the way Jake looked at Blaire and then back at Grant, Donovan had the same burning questions. Who were those men? Why did they take those particular paintings? And why the hell did Blaire look like she knew exactly what was goingon?

35

Blaire

Oxygen seemedto be in short supply inside the vehicle, or maybe, Grant was holding me too tight. Or maybe the weight of my past was coming back to suffocate me. Art had been my escape. That was the only place I found refuge in the violence of my childhood’s checkered past. That one solace was now ruined and I wasdrowning.

“I can’t breathe,” Icroaked.

Arms that cleaved me to a hard chest loosened and I heard a muttered apology. Grant’s hands continued to touch me, as though he was making sure I was there beside him and I was okay. As for me, I’d been transported momentarily to that time with Sergei. I knew the questions would come, and I intended to answer them the best I could remember because I wanted to find out what was happening aswell.

I caught Jake’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He was riding in the passenger side as Zed drove us back to Grant’s penthouse in the Upper East Side. Unlike the suspicious glare the first time he found out my father was the mob’s cleaner, there was a thoughtfulness in his gaze. There was concern that was directed at me and that gave me courage to face what wasahead.

“Did you know the men who took the paintings,Blaire?”

“Let’s leave the questions until we get her to the penthouse,” Grant saidsharply.

“No,” I said, straightening up in my seat. “It’s all right, Grant.” I put a placating hand on his thigh and heard a rumble in his throat. “No, I didn’t know them, but the paintings they took have a link to my past and something the man in the suit said makes me think they know of thatlink.”

“Wait, what man in a suit?” Grant asked. “And how did he talk to you? Weren’t you and Tyler keeping low in therestroom?”

I sighed. Maybe it was better to talk about this in the penthouse. “No. The man approachedme—”

“How?” Grantsnapped.

“Um, Tyler went to pick updinner—”

Grant swore. “He fucking leftyou?”

“Bobby was going to hand him the food at the entrance but a homeless guy attacked Bobby. Tyler radioed Drew to keep an eye on me…” I glanced at Jake—I couldn’t read his expression, but the man beside me was about to blow a fuse. “Please don’t blameTyler.”

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